


All Dogs Go To Heaven.

by vaderina



Series: Prompt Fills [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angel in training, Character death - but you sort of need that to make them angels so..., Drives Graves mad, Fluff, Graves needs a drink, M/M, Newt saves everything, No animals were harmed in the making of this fic, angel au, mentions of animal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 07:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11618757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Graves has been reassigned (unfairly - he won't go without a grumble, on the premise of needing a break. He was fine thank you very much.) to train a new guardian angel. His new trainee is no other than Newt who has taken it on himself to make heaven a pet friendly environment whether anyone wants it or not. It's enough to get Graves to start drinking again - especially when he sees Newt's room.





	All Dogs Go To Heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.  
> Characters don't belong to me - only the typos and mistakes.
> 
> A prompt fill for thegaypumpingthroughyourveins over on tumblr who asked for this: Newt being a new guardian angel and Graves the one in charge of his training.

It was a punishment detail. Nothing else was a feasible possibility no matter what Seraphina told him. Graves had been distracted for just a moment and the demon Grindelwald had jumped at the chance to impersonate him while Graves was ensnared in a bushy cloud that looked like the softest fluffy wool of a new born lamb. It had felt like the snares of a barbwire were attached to wire wool and his wings showed the damage done. When Graves had finally, quite literally, torn himself free of his trap and gone on a warpath with his full righteous fury he set order to his life once again. Except Seraphina ordered him to take some downtime. He’d refused, naturally. No matter what she said he’d rejected every offer. From a lifetime to walk earth as a mortal to a spot at the back of the angelic choir where he could get away with miming rather than actually singing he rebuffed her. He was perfectly happy where he was, guarding the frontier between heaven and hell while she managed the different branches of heaven.

“If you’re not going to take the breaks I’m offering you then I will order you to a new post.” she finally snapped at him.

“Why can’t I just do my job?” he didn’t whine. He was centuries old, he was too old to whine.

“Just look at your wings. You need rest, time to heal and maybe, just maybe a little time to reacquaint yourself with just why we do what we do.”

“But I already know that. I’m fine. My wings are fine. Look.” As if to prove a point he gave his wings a few powerful pumps. Graves gritted his teeth through the pulling pain and tried to smile as a way to distract Seraphina from the handful of feathers that drifted down. They were more than what was considered normal for even a heavy moult so he had no excuses. His smile didn’t do the trick. Seraphina’s returning grim frown sent his hopes plummeting.

“This is for the best, Percival.” She intoned seriously. “Your new charge will be arriving shortly for orientation. Please mentor him with the care and patience that I know you’re capable of.”

Graves grumbled and glowered at anybody who dared look his way. He’d been for want of a better word relegated to cherub watching duties. Sweet innocent cherubs who stared at the world they’d just left with wide eyed glory. He got to the reception point and watched with morbid fascination. His charge, it seemed was in the middle of some jungle, precariously leaning over the edge of a canoe. Graves shook his head. He’d been in the situation a fair few times before he transferred over the security from training. It never got easier, watching the last moments of someone’s life. Part of him was mesmerised though, he’d thought he’d seen it all before. Yet this young idiot with messy auburn curls seemed to be competing for the most prize of most idiotic ever. At first Graves had assumed some kind of jungle disease would get the man. Yet as he watched him leaning over the side of the boat, fingers reaching out. To. Pet. An. Alligator. It wasn’t going to end well and Graves almost didn’t want to watch. Yet he felt like he owed it to the other man, alone in the jungle with nobody to hold a vigil for him after his demise. He watched as the hand stretched, the boat rocked precariously. Fingers brushed along the alligator’s head. Graves admired the outline of a pert behind as the fabric of the trousers drew tight. The boat toppled and the guy fell head first into the water. Graves winced and looked away despite himself. He didn’t want to see the death roll of the alligator as it drowned the man. Plus he didn’t want to think of the firm round butt he’d just been ogling. But nothing of his predictions came. With sullen curiosity Graves glanced up at the shimmering screen where the man was now swimming in steady strokes towards the shore as he towed the flipped canoe. Graves had to make a mental note about the man having more stamina and heart than he had initially given him credit for. Eventually the man got to the shore, patted himself down to wring as much water as possible out of his clothes and much to Graves’ disbelief hopped back into the canoe. His white shirt was sodden through and clinging to a surprisingly well defined chest. Subconsciously Graves licked his lips.

The man paddled back out into the shallow and Graves admired the scenery. He’d revised his earlier assessment of a jungle – the vegetation reminded him eerily of the fragments of memories he still cherished of camping with his father in the Everglades. So lost in his memories, Graves almost missed the moment his soon to be mentee reared back in his canoe. Straining his eyes Graves could just about make out the shape of a writhing snake in the canoe. The man tried to flip the snake out with his paddle but rather than flip it into the water the snake used the paddle as a starting point to lightning fast slither up towards him. Despite moving back as far as the canoe allowed the snake lunged at the man and caught him in the arm. Graves could see the sharp cry of pain distort the man’s face before he toppled backwards back into the water. Expectantly Graves turned to the arrivals platform where true to his predictions the man shivered into existence a scant few minutes later. It gave Graves a chance to run through his mental spiel of greeting the newest guardian angel and explaining in the best of ways their newfound existence. He expected some panic, tears, begging. He didn’t expect the man to take one surprised turn to take in his new environment, get distracted by his own wings and start preening with the curiosity normally reserved for plump cupids who discovered they could see the strings of fate all of a sudden. Graves lost his patience and cleared his throat. The other man stopped his ministrations of separating his own feathers and looked up.

“Oh hello.” The man said with a lopsided smile. “This is a peculiar place. Am I to believe I’m dead?”

Graves was on his back foot by such a nonchalant approach to death.

“Well, yes.” He eventually admitted.

“Ah. Thought as much. Cottonmouth. Nasty bite. Still, made a nice distraction from drowning. At least Albert will have something to snack on for a few days now.” The newly minted angel blabbered and turned back to his wing. “Are these wings capable of supporting flight?”

Graves was at a loss. Cottonmouth? Albert? Who took news of their death so easily to move on from it from one breath to the next?

“Yes. But not the way you expect it to. I’ll be the one to show you the ropes, for now you’re a trainee Guardian Angel. I’m Percival Graves.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to learning more about all of it. But first. The wings – do they need regular grooming? Or do they self-clean. Judging by the condition of your perhaps we need to give them a bit more care and attention than most winged species. How do you deal with the harder to reach places? Or is that a socially delicate question – reserved for family units only? Perhaps it’s a form of intimacy?”

Graves blinked at the barrage of verbalised train of thoughts that the man who still hadn’t given his name bombarded him with. He felt a moment of self-consciousness flicker through his wings as he pulled them tighter to his back to shield them from prying and judging eyes.

“How rude of me. I’m sorry. I’m sure you get asked all the time.” Except the man didn’t look especially sorry. It was more like he was going through the social niceties he’d learned by rote but didn’t quite understand.

“What’s your name?” Graves gritted out.

“Newt. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. But I prefer just Newt.”

“Fine. Just Newt. Come with me. I’ll show you what you need to do.”

Graves spun on the spot and strode towards a quieter corner where he could sit Newt down and go through the initial paperwork involved in becoming a guardian angel. After a few steps he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. Where he’d expected Newt to meekly follow him instead the other man was staring in open wonder around him. He cleared his throat expecting Newt to jump out of his childlike reverie and obediently trot after him. The second time he cleared his throat more pointedly Newt looked at him.

“Do you still get sore throats and illnesses as an angel? That’s disappointing.”

Despite himself Graves rolled his eyes.

“If you’d come with me please. We don’t have all day to waste. You’ll get a tour later on.” Eventually Newt followed him and they sat down with the giant folder of paperwork. Usually that was the stage where the reality of their situation truly hit most people. Next to the folder was a box of tissues and a few leaflets which the mentor could pick from. Oddly, none of them seemed appropriate for Newt. Neither “Now That You’re Dead – FAQs Everyone Asks” nor “Welcome To Your Heavenly Duties – Moving On From The Living To Help The Living Move On” quite summarised Newt’s almost nonchalant attitude. He chose not to push any of them at Newt.

“So, this folder,” he gestured, “has everything you need to know. Read it. Learn it. Any questions will be answered in there. If they’re not, ask me and I’ll try to find you answers. I’ll get you your roster while you read. Any questions?” Graves stared at Newt almost daring him to open his mouth. The new angel seemed to finally pick up on his mood and solemnly shook his head. As Graves pushed away from the table Newt looked at him.

“Actually. One question. Am I expected to be as grumpy and sour as you? Or is that just your thing?” Graves’ wings flared in annoyance which caused his mood to plummet further. He wasn’t some newly ascended angel who couldn’t control their wings. No, he was a hardened leader along the border who was feared and respected by both enemies and allies. What did this strange newbie think he was to make him flare his wings like that? Graves was so entrenched in his rage he almost missed the small uptick of Newt’s mouth. He had the nerve to tease him so soon after arrival. Graves was determined to bring him down a peg or two. Not even Seraphina could get away with teasing him so openly. He huffed and spun away without deigning to answer the question.

“I guess it’s your speciality then. I won’t try to steal your unique attitude, don’t worry.” Newt called after him and Graves almost ran back to suffocate him with his own wings. Instead he stomped to the roster board and picked up the next clipboard. He wanted to leave Newt to stew and perhaps appreciate just what had happened a little more. Graves grabs the clipboard and strides to Seraphina’s office. He knocks and enters without much thought. He knows if Seraphina had been in a meeting or doing something important he’d have been stopped from entering already.

As it is, she sits behind her desk and smiles.

“How’s the new arrival? You haven’t already broken this one, have you?”

“If you were so worried you wouldn’t have made me take this so called break.” Graves spat out.

“Do you not like Newt?”

“No! He’s odd. He hasn’t begged, hasn’t raged, hasn’t even really acknowledged his death much. He’s wei-” Graves stopped mid rant. “Wait. Newt? How do you even know his name?”

Seraphina smirked at him.

“Even guardian angels mess up sometimes. Abernathy was terribly worried about Newt. He was in here wringing his hands, wings twisting in worry as soon as he realised.” Her words said one thing but her expression, smile and eyes told another story. It took everything Graves had not to puff his wings up in indignation.

“Now, did you come in here just to have a moan or did you have some pressing matter I need to be aware of?” Seraphina steered the conversation.

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re grumpy. Not stop pouting before someone kisses it off your stupid face. Get back to Newt. He’ll be good for you, I promise.”

Graves turned and stomped out, he didn’t pout. It didn’t sit well with him that Seraphina would order Abernathy to fail at his duties to Newt. The young man had done nothing wrong as far as he could see, apart from being a little odd. His only crime was that Seraphina had seen it fit to involve him in Graves’ punishment.

All too soon he got back to where he’d left Newt panic flooded through him. The folder was still there but his almost otherworldly charge had disappeared. Graves flung himself in a wild search which was cut short as soon as he turned on the spot. Newt seemed to be happily chattering away to Tina and Queenie. Tina was one of his subordinates on the border while Queenie was a full time member of the angelic choir. She had a sweet voice and an even sweeter disposition. Graves was in no mood to play nice though, he approached his wayward charge who seemed to be admiring the others’ wings with open fascination. Newt froze when a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

“Why did you wonder off? What did I tell you about having a tour later?” he growled. Newt turned to look at him with innocent eyes.

“There was someone screaming and crying near where I appeared. So I went to investigate and Tina and Queenie here kindly took me under their wings. Figuratively not literally! They were also kind enough to explain wing etiquette. I won’t offer to groom yours again.”

Tina blushed and tried to hide her laughter in a cough while Queenie giggled at them. Graves glared at them.

“Anyway,” Newt continued unperturbed, “I only asked them if I should have reacted like the man who was wailing and clutching at an angel’s knee begging. I can get on my knees and beg if that’s appropriate.”

Graves wasn’t sure if Newt was messing around with him or if he really was a naïve as his words made him sound. He didn’t dare glance at the sisters who were failing to hide their laughter.

“That’s fine. I’d prefer if you didn’t. Come along now.” Graves led the way, his tried and tested method of ignoring anything uncomfortable and pushing on seemed to work yet again.

“So what are we going to do now?” Newt seemed oddly enthusiastic for someone newly dead.

“Don’t you have any regrets about dying?” Graves asked before he could stop himself.

“I miss my blue coat if that’s what you mean.” Newt looked down himself and frowned. “How do we put shirts on with wings? I couldn’t feel a slit in my shirt earlier.”

Graves sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Seraphina was right, he’d need all of his patience and compassion for this mentoring process. Patience for Newt and compassion for himself. They settled back in their little booth, folder disappearing when Newt said he was happy with it. Graves decided to forgo the quizzing of the finer points raised in the folder. He had a feeling it would only lead to more stress. Hopefully Newt could learn quickly on the job.

They started with the first name on the list and oddly Newt seemed to have a natural aptitude for nudging people out of the ways of misfortune. It all went too well. Newt got the hang of his wings quickly and he flitted from charge to charge almost quicker than Graves could keep up. He had to begrudgingly admit that perhaps despite first appearances Newt was taking to his new role better than imaginable. Of course just as Graves almost relaxed and was about to comfortably settle into a distant supervisory role rather than being a proactive guardian to Newt, the infuriating angel had to do something nobody had ever thought to do.

Their charge was an unsavoury man. It was the first time Newt had encountered someone who looked undeserving of angelic intervention on his duties. At first glance Newt seemed to be taking it stride. He frowned at the man who was in his comfortable home and yet was about to fall down the stairs and break his neck. It was their job to prevent it happening. However when Newt saw the dog cowering in the corner of a room he changed. His wings, normally sleekly tucked behind his back puffed out in fury, spreading and casting an invisible shadow of rage. When the man that was their charge got up and kicked the dog Newt growled and for the first time in decades Graves was scared of a lesser angel than him. When he passed through Newt’s wings he shivered and looked behind him. His cursing picked up and Graves saw the moment his foot tangled with the body of the dog he was dragging. Newt lunged, except he didn’t move to push the man backwards, he grabbed the dog and Graves tried to not see him give the man an extra shove. With a howl and some painful thuds down the stairs the man rolled. He hit the bottom and cursed. Newt paid him no heed. Instead he crouched over the dog and gently smiled.

“Hello there.” he offered softly, the dog’s tail gave a small wag and licked Newt’s hand. “Would you like to come home with me? You’ll have a much better life there, I promise.”

Before Graves could intervene Newt took off, dog in tow. He found Newt tucked into a quiet corner of heaven, right on the outer edges that looked over random cities at different times of day. The damned dog was curled up next to him while Newt’s feet dangled off the cloud.

“We need to talk.” Graves began. As if something had broken in Newt he whipped round with a fierce stare.

“I fulfilled my role. The sick fuck will live another day.” he spat. “He didn’t deserve to be saved.”

“It is not our job to decide who deserves our help and who doesn’t. We merely fulfil the requests on the clipboard.”

“Well, I did. So leave me alone.” Newt growled, a hand possessively stroking the dog’s head.

“Newt. This is improper.” Graves sighed and sat down on the other side of the dog. His had slip along smooth fur and he had to admit, it did feel nice.

“Why are there no animals in heaven?” Newt queried. After a pause Graves shrugged.

“I don’t know.” The dog took that moment to yawn and sleepily blink up at him. Graves couldn’t hold back on the smile.

“I’m not letting this dog go back.”

“You can’t keep it.”

“Him.” Newt pushed. “And watch me.”

“Newt,” Graves sighed again, “this is highly improper. No dogs come to heaven. No animals come to heaven.”

“Then help me.” Newt looked at him. “Help me make the change.”

“I’ll turn a blind eye to this. But just this once. Don’t do it again.”

It seems that Newt had taken to heart Graves’ warning – on their cases Newt seemed to be able to refrain from saving all manner of creatures. True, he didn’t quiet perform his angelic duties as dictated but Graves couldn’t say he didn’t do his job. But instead of coming out of near scares unscathed, the lowlife they sometimes had to guard came out more bruised and battered than when perhaps in the care of another angel.

These little incidents opened Graves’ eyes. Perhaps Seraphina had been right, he had become too entrenched in his job over the centuries. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated in giving the easiest, smoothest nudge to save someone and move on. Now though, as he watched Newt think through his desired results from interfering it got him thinking. Perhaps some of the people they interacted with didn’t truly deserve to come away completely unharmed. It still wasn’t their duty to decide who can and can’t be interfered with but they’d become complacent in meting out angelic justice. Why it fell to Newt to make him realise he refused to think about it.

Newt was almost ready to go it alone when Graves decided to seek him out during their downtime. He only wanted to check in with Newt, see that he’s happy to soon be going it alone. Except Newt was nowhere to be found. Graves stalked through heaven searching for him. Eventually he found himself going through the pearly gates to search for his errant ward outside the safety of heaven. He didn’t have to go far. On the steps up to the gate stood Newt, eyes wide at having been caught. In his hands was a box of bedraggled, wet kittens.

“Um…it’s not what it looks like?” Newt tried with a hopeful grin.

“I think it’s exactly what it looks like. I thought we’d talked about this.” Graves was resigned. Newt looked down at the box then back up at Graves through his lashes. His lips wobbled precariously and his eyes looked suspiciously shiny with tears.

“Now look Newt, you can’t just bring every stray, mistreated animal to heaven.” Graves found himself softening in light of Newt’s unhappiness.

“Why not?” Newt retorted but he sank to sit on the stairs with his box. Graves sat next to him. The kittens took that moment to take great interest in him and started pawing out of the box towards his wings. It would have bene endearing if it weren’t for the circumstances.

“You’re going to have to take them back.”

Newt sniffed and rubbed at his nose with the sleeve of his top.

“You want me to take them back and leave them in a soggy cardboard box under an alcove where nobody will see them? Where nobody will want them? Do you know how awful it is to die alone? Hungry and scared? Nobody should have to go through that.”

Graves sighed, Newt was right that was a miserable way to go. And the kittens looked so happy in his lap, finally warm and no longer having to worry about eating. A couple of kittens perhaps wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Fine. Let me walk you back to your room.”

The blinding smile Newt shot him without any remnants of the earlier tears had Graves thinking that he might have just been taken for a fool. Too late though, instead he stood and offered a hand to Newt to pull him up. As they got closer to Newt’s room Newt began to look uneasy.

“You don’t have to worry you know. I can find my own way back to my room now.” Newt chewed on his bottom lip. It made something twist in Graves’ gut. He’d always had a thing for watching white teeth digging into the soft pinkness of lower lips. But at the same time Newt’s resistance had his stomach churning in worry. Just what was he hiding?

“It’s no trouble, really. I need to talk to you anyway.”

“I can meet you in the canteen.” Newt offered weakly.

“We’re almost by your room.”

They were indeed just rounding the corner to Newt’s room, a plain door in a row or doors down a corridor.

“I’ll be out in a sec.” Newt said as he pushed the door open a sliver and tried to slip in. Except a raccoon scurried out over his foot. Before Newt could lunge forwards catch the rascal and risk the box of kittens toppling from his grip Graves grabbed the escapee. Newt stared at him sheepishly.

“Don’t be mad?” he asked and opened the door for Graves to stare in. And stare he did. Rather than the usual room which Graves was expecting it looked more like an endless expanse of different lands. He could see the woods of Europe next to the mountains of Tibet while the deserts of Africa skirted around until it bled into the icy expanse of the arctic. The raccoon fell from his hands and scampered off but Graves didn’t notice. What took his senses over completely though was the sounds of animals shrieking, braying, cawing and howling. The smell of damp earth hit him with unexpected force. Next to him, Newt put the kittens down onto a table, the only vaguely recognisable part of his room. He looked completely entranced by introducing the kittens to a rather large, hairy dog who gave the kittens a curious sniff before licking Newt’s face enthusiastically.

“Newt?” Graves wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He just needed to hear Newt’s voice to ground him, to reassure him that this was all real.

“So I may have figured out the physics of heaven.” Newt sounded unsure.

“That you certainly have.” Graves’ eyes ventured out over the ecosystems again.

“You’re not mad?”

“I don’t know what I am anymore.”

Newt stood next to Graves, their wings brushing together. After a few speechless minutes while Graves took in the sight of a hippopotamus trundling by them he shook himself out of his reverie. He noticed with a frown that his wings had once again developed a mind of their own and one had extended around Newt to almost envelop and shield him. Without a word he pulled his wing back and hoped Newt hadn’t noticed. Luck was not on his side as Newt shyly smiled up at him. Before Graves could say anything and incriminate them further a snake slithered by.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, looking at the large snake that paid them no heed.

“It’s only Cecilia, she’s a ball python.”

“She isn’t very round!” was the first thing that came out of Graves’ mouth. He wanted to slap himself, he should have been reprimanding Newt for not only violating their agreement that no animals would go to heaven but also for altering his room. Not even Seraphina’s office warranted such luxuries. There was no reason for a new angel to have such expansive quarters.

Except, the alterations weren’t for himself and as Graves watched he could see that all the animals Newt had rescued had come from difficult situation – the rhino that had been brutally injured but not killed by poacher, instead left for dead with its horn taken as a trophy. The deer that had been hit by a car and left behind, crumpled in the verges in agony. The countless cats and dogs taken from hoarders, abusers, and puppy farms. In his own way Newt was providing a slice of heaven for the creatures that had never known happiness in their whole lives. If that wasn’t an angelic act of pure selflessness then he didn’t know what was.

Newt took his silence as a sign to keep talking.

“I was thinking, a few of the angels have already offered homes to some of the animals. Perhaps we could make heaven a little more pet friendly? I’m sure there are others out there who would want companions.”

Graves shook his head.

“You’d need to get Seraphina’s agreement and she’ll never allow it. I fear if you even bring it up you’ll be kicked out the pearly gates and stripped of your wings.”

“I’m going to try anyway.”

Before Graves could stop him, Newt ushered him out with his wings and because Graves was so careful about not touching anyone’s wings, he had no choice but to be herded out of the room. The door closed firmly behind them and Newt smiled.

“Thanks for the help.” Was all he said before he disappeared in a flap of his wings. Graves sighed. He needed a drink. He’d been wanting a drink ever since Newt’s arrival really. There was an unused hipflask lying forgotten somewhere in the depths of his desk’s draw. It was prime time he used it.

Surprisingly Newt found him the following day and he looked unscathed, unworried and actually a little looser than he’d ever been before. He didn’t say much, just took the day’s clipboard from Graves’ hand and they were off. It was a short day though and all too soon they were sat on the edge of a fluffy cloud, Newt’s legs dangling over the edge while Graves with his stretched out.

“How do you do it anyway?” Graves asked.

“Do what?”

“Rescue all those animals. Bring them in without anyone seeing. Kittens I understand, but an elephant Newt? You can’t exactly hide that under your wings an coat.”

Newt laughed delightedly.

“As I said, I figured out the physics of heaven. I had a little help but really, once you put your mind to it, it’s easy. Oh. Porcupine. Got to go.” Newt flung himself off the cloud and Graves sighed. He pulled his flask from his pocket, took a swing and fell backwards onto the soft cloud. A moment later Newt appeared looking a little smug.

“What did you do?” Graves asked, not even bothering to try and sit up. He stared at Newt from his prone position.

“Well, I made sure the hunters would never set such cruel traps again once they experiences just how agonising they are.”

“Sometimes I wonder why you ended up an angel when your tendencies are so demonic.”

“I’ll have you know I prefer the term chaotic neutral.” Newt grinned. “Now come along, I thought you wanted to see.”

Together they left for Newt’s room where once to door was shut Newt dug around in his pocket. He pulled out a miniature porcupine and held it up to his face, an almost manic grin as he watched the small animal. With an odd murmur he blew onto the creature and set it on the ground. It was with awe that Graves watched the animal grow to its normal size and scurry off in its new environment. He turned to smile at Newt who was already looking at him with something that felt suspiciously like fondness. The moment was broken when their wings brushed against each other and Graves jerked away automatically. They never mentioned it again.

Not too soon after everything that had happened Graves noticed a gradual change in heaven. The first thing he noticed was the dove that floated after Queenie as she made her rounds. Abernathy seemed to have acquired a permanent lump in his jacket pocket. It revealed itself to be a greedy chipmunk when it broke loose in the canteen to steal some toast from an unsuspecting angel. Slowly more and more angels appeared with some kind of animal trailing after them. Newt had offered him a choice of his own pet but Graves stubbornly refused. He didn’t need a companion, his own company was more than enough to make him happy.

It was a meeting with Seraphina that almost broke him. He’d been complaining about all the animals suddenly running around in heaven and why his charge hadn’t been reprimanded. Hell, why hadn’t Graves himself been reprimanded, as his direct supervisor he was responsible for Newt’s actions and should bear the brunt of his well-intentioned rule breaking. Seraphina smiled at him and shrugged. That’s when he noticed that around her shoulders it wasn’t some fancy collar. Because collars didn’t move, nor did they rear snake heads to stare at him as they flicked out tongues.

“Et tu, Brutus?” Graves asked hoarsely.

“I think you’ve met Cecilia before.” Seraphina’s grin was toothy and vicious.

There was nothing left to say after that. Graves reluctantly let Newt become an angel rather than a probationary one. He had nothing left to teach Newt. The young angel probably knew more than he did at this point anyway. Yet Newt still seemed to seek him out, tried to ply him with various animals and still met him for lunch in the canteen. It was peculiar. Since he’d cut Newt loose Seraphina hadn’t ordered him back to his old post, neither had he been assigned a new recruit. More often than not Graves found himself back on what had become their cloud, watching the world pass by under his feet.

On one such occasion he was sat there, idly wondering how people lived such shirt, brief lives when a shadow fell across him. It was Newt, he could tell just by his presence, it was soothing, the rustle of his wings comforting in the breeze.

“You really should take better care of your wings.” Newt said softly, kneeling behind Graves. His hands ghosted over the feathers along the ridges of his wings. The fingers turned firm, carding through tangled feathers, easing them back into a semblance of order. It felt good, better than good and despite himself Graves pushed his wings out in invitation. This time when Newt covered his wings with his own Graves didn’t jerk away. He didn’t push back either, but he accepted the comfort offered as Newt wrapped arms round his waist, chest pressed warmly against his back.

“Is this okay?” Newt whispered in his ear.

“Yes.” He didn’t know why he whispered too, but he didn’t want to break this fragile new thing between them. It had been building slowly, Graves knew he’d been attracted to Newt from the first moment he’d set eyes on him. Then he was infuriated by his not quite rule breaking ways which gave way to a fondness that went beyond just physical appreciation. Yet he did anything about his brewing emotions. He liked to tell himself it was because of his role as Newt’s mentor but a little part of him murmured about not knowing what to do, how to approach not just Newt but anyone else anymore. He’d become so entrenched in his job, century after century of fighting, protecting the border and ordering his subordinates that slowly his humanity faded. Not his compassion, not his righteousness but rather he slowly forgot how to love and be loved. He was feared and respected but he couldn’t remember the last time someone dared approach him with a brush of wings. It was with surprise he realise that he’d missed it. And that it had taken a new angel with idiosyncratic beliefs to draw him back towards matters of the heart. Warm arms shifted around him and drew Graves back into the present.

“Would you let me groom your wings?” Newt asked, voice low as his breath tickled across Graves’ ear.

“Please.” Graves was beyond single words. The sudden craving for contact, the itch of his neglected wings all came pressing down on him. Silently Newt pulled away from the embrace, lips brushing against the back of his neck in passing. It made Graves shudder almost as much as when fingers went to work on the worst of his matted feathers, near where wings met back. Newt works quietly, occasionally humming to soothe his grumbling when feather that hadn’t lay right so long were eased back into place. They lost track of time, not that it had much meaning in heaven anyway. Slowly newt worked his way out to the tip of one wing before starting on the other. He offered his own wings as a curling shadow of warmth around them, creating a barrier between them and the world. It was almost hypnotic the way he worked, Graves stole glances over his shoulder to watch the other angel, brows furrowed in concentration and at times the tip of his tongue poked out between pink lips. When Newt glanced up at him, eyebrows rising Graves leant back, his lips finding Newt’s for a brief moment before pulling away. The shy smile Newt graced him with when Graves dared glance back up at him was something he never could have imagined being directed at him before.

Before either of could break the silence or look away there was the sound of fluttering and a hoot from beyond their cocoon. Reluctantly Newt drew his wings back and turned to the owl. An owl. Graves couldn’t believe his eyes. Typical Newt.

“Forest fire.” Newt shrugged and reached for the note attached to the owl’s leg. Wonderful, it seemed that Newt not only introduced pets to heaven but also revolutionised their whole messaging system. Graves tried not to groan.

“It’s for you.” Newt passed him the note. It was from Seraphina. A summons to the reception platform, his next mentee was about to arrive. The note mentioned that it was best to bring Newt along too.

“Duty calls.” He all but sighed. “Come along.”

At the reception area the screen shimmered into life. It was an eerily familiar scene, the Everglades, a small swampy lake. Oddly familiar red curls but broader, more stout than the lean wiry form of Newt.

“Theseus!” Newt cried, happy to see his brother yet aghast at the knowledge of what was to happen. An alligator quietly swam up to the boat.

“Albert!” Newt seemed so torn Graves put a wing around him without thinking, ignoring the stares at his suddenly half groomed wings and the casual display of affection. Unthinkingly he pulled Newt closer, turning his head into the crook of his neck so he didn’t have to see. Newt peeked up at the screen but quickly hid again. Graves watched for them both when the boat toppled, when the alligator lunged.

The form of Theseus shivered into life, cursing and raging. He didn’t shut up even as he took in his new surroundings and his wings.

“’Seus!” Newt greeted, slightly teary eyes.

“You bloody idiot.” Theseus seethed. “You got yourself killed by that fucking monster, didn’t you? I told you not to go out there on your own.”

“Albert did no such thing.” Newt retorted and his eyes flicked to the screen. They widened comically and then he disappeared. He was back a moment later, setting something down on the ground and watched it grow. The alligator next to him gave him a curious look.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Theseus and Graves groaned in unison.

“You killed him.” Newt sounded outraged. “He choked on you ‘Seus. How could you?”

“The bastard deserved it. Now, are you going to introduce me to your new friend who seemed quite attached to you when I arrived. Literally attached. Does he need a shovel talk? I’m sure even in the afterlife there’s ways to make people suffer.”

Graves groaned as Newt took his hand and pulled him closer to his brothers. May the powers of heaven grant him the patience of a saint and the strength of Samson. There were two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Got a prompt? Send an ask via tumblr (@ladyoftheshrimp) or drop me a message.


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